Stories Untold

When Blogger keeps reformatting your post no matter what you try into one big run-on paragraph. Sorry to anyone subjected to my previous post. I don't know why it's not keeping it the way I type and edit it. I will try and sort it out. 

D’Artagnan Leslie Stanford was tired of feeling out of place once again. This time it was where Goths and metalheads gathered. She had never really felt in place anywhere at any time in life, much less a trendy club. Putting on a good front most of the time, but the reality was she felt horrid most days, as if she were not part of the human race. Paying for her drink, and tossing back her long hair she headed toward the exit to start her walk home. “Excuse me. Hey, wait. Please don’t go!” said a voice barely audible above the pounding music. Leslie turned around to see a tall, young, long haired man about her age walking a few steps behind her. She was about to hit the exit of the newly opened club, Rage. Not being the type who would normally venture out alone to a loud, crowded heavy metal club, she was a bit startled by the sound of this stranger’s voice. “Are you talking to me?” Looking around, Leslie scanned the area to make sure there was no vampy vixen he was chasing a